RWBY Files
by HummingEnigma312
Summary: Short series of one shots usually in good taste. Ideas are welcome and prompts especially. From platonic to romantic relationships bloom and lines are drawn for everyone. For there are no accidents or actions without cause. Every story deserves to be told. (Language, themes, stuff) R&R for Luck's sake. Writers feed off of it and it helps is get better.
1. Pallor

**RWBY Files**

**Pallor**

* * *

Weiss Schnee was not having a good time. Despite the elegance of the ball and the astounding maturity of her teammates, she was upset. The light music flowed across the dance floor but Weiss would have none of it. She slipped away from her teammates to allow them to enjoy their night while she moped about.

_Come on Weiss_, she scolded herself, _You're not a little girl. _

She sighed and glanced into a glass of apple cider. Her liquid golden reflection stared back with dour. She winced at her image and brought a free hand to her hair. Normal length brought it roughly to the square of her back but on the night of the annual Beacon Ball in which Weiss was staring to a glass of apple cider, it was so short it barely touched her mid of her shoulder blades.

As she shook her head, it felt wrong to have it move in multiple piece rather and one long side ponytail.

_He said he liked girls with short hair. Good going, changing for a guy. Really showed him, didn't you? At least he's not here. Probably hooking up with some fool. What does that make me then? Passed up for a fool? A double fool._

Her mental tirade devolved into mental self abuse as she slowly dug a deeper and deeper pit. This wasn't like her and it certainly wasn't about the hair. He wasn't there, so it didn't matter anyway. At least that was she told herself focusing intently on her drink

"Excuse me."

Weiss was so startled, she nearly dropped her glass. The golden liquid contents sloshed but did not spill.

"What do you want?" Weiss snapped.

She looked up and began to redden. It wasn't one of her teammates. It was just some random guy, from her third class. The momentary feeling of embaressment was quickly replaced by suspicious irritation

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly like an idiot, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied harshly. Her tone made it clear she didn't want him around. Her icy blue eyes tried to freeze him on the spot.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he shrugged as he warily sat at a table beside's Weiss'. His hair was a ruddy brown and his skin was a soft brown with a red tinge. His eyes were an odd shade of brown, almost orange.

Weiss gave him a harsh glare. _Go away!_

He inclined his head and towards Weiss and winced before offering a small smile. Weiss, strangely, couldn't increase her level of irritation. It panned at mild irritant before rationality flooded her. _I'm acting like a little girl._ Weiss Schnee held herself to many standards and dos and don'ts of being a lady applied to her tenfold. She saw it as weakness to be anything but proper. Disregard for social etiquette was not only improper but plain arrogance rather than ignorance. She'd go easy on him if he didn't persist.

"Please," she said calmly, "Go away." She took a sip of the apple cider.

"No, I think something's wrong," the guy sighed before frowning, "Are you sure you don't-"

"No," Weiss cut him off, "I'm quite alright. I'm just tired; tired of this party, tried ad this night, and, frankly, tired of your company."

She had turned up the ice meter and set it to full blast. She wouldn't have anything to do with anyone else that night. It was more embarrassment than pain that irked her and nothing good could come from emptying out personal issue with a stranger. _Classmate_, Weiss corrected. She'd give him the courtesy of that.

"I know you're torturing yourself," he was still frowning, "It's written all over your face. You think that you're hiding it but it's kinda obvious." His tactless, or rather, blunt manner threw Weiss off and she countered.

"Well, then I see no sense in guarding my tongue," Weiss said curtly, "Go jump off a cliff." Her words were punctuated with staccato emphasis of all three words like forceful jabs.

The guy dipped his head and showed the palms of his hands as if offering surrender. "As you wish," he gave one last sad smile, "If you need me, my name is Desmond by the way."

Weiss didn't respond and simply put her chin up. She felt her shortened hair brush her upper back.

"You're hair looks nice tonight," Desmond added rising and pushing in his chair with slow deliberation. "I hope your night gets better, sometimes you just got to give it time and thought." He gave her a theatrical bow and departed across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.

Weiss caught herself from throwing her glass angrily. _What is wrong with me tonight? _She put down the glass and folded her arms, the only arms she felt safe in. _Stop it. You're acting impetuous and childlike. He shouldn't have pried, yes, but you know better. What's wrong with me… _

One of her hands clenched into a fist. It wasn't fair. But she was going to live with it. The standards she held kept her from falling into second-best and first-loser. She wasn't going to lag behind and disappoint, not anymore.

_But_, she paused, _is acting like a little girl always so bad? It's suites Ruby fine. But I'm not her. I don't have the luxury of… Excuses. I need to stop making excuses. I always want to emerge prim and unscathed and it doesn't work like that. Sometimes, there's no one to blame but myself. _

She drained nearly empty glass, set it down, rose unsteadily to her feet and skirted along the edge of the room until she found an open corridor. She leaned against an empty wall. She crossed her arms once more and looked up at the vaulted ceiling to contemplate a little longer. She decided she'd head up to her dorm and call it a night. There was no use continuing the self torture. She had to move on, she had to just sleep or maybe jump off a cliff herself.

"Getting fresh air?"

Weiss wasn't as easily startled. She half expected him to show up again. He struck her as the type. The exact type she wasn't sure, but something along the lines of he didn't understand the word "Quit" and that he probably liked cinnamon.

"What do you want?"

Desmond stood a ways away. He had stopped a few feet away from Weiss. He regarded hr with soft eyes and an open ear. The situation felt too familiar for comfort but necessary.

"Just making sure you're _really _alright."

"I'm heading up to my room now," she sneered, "So my less-than-decent night can end. Is that alright with you? Do you want to walk to my room? Stand guard while I sleep? Read me a bedtime story. What do you want Desmond? Really? Because I'm certainly not in the mood for games!"

"No games?" Desmond smirked, "I can do that. I just want two things. I want to dance with you, once. And I just want to talk."

"You're getting neither," Weiss huffed and turned on her heel.

"It's not exactly wise to go to bed upset," Desmond chimed, following Weiss at a safe distance.

Weiss spun and glared Desmond down, water meeting earth. He walked casually up to her and tried to look as innocent as possible. Weiss was not amused. Desmond felt his stomach flip. He was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse; except he wasn't sure who was the mouse.

"Go away," she hissed. They was only an inch difference between them but Weiss always found annoyance in looking up to others.

"One dance," he negotiated, "No talking. Just a dance?"

Again, Weiss found herself trying to dissect Desmond's personality. He wasn't in it for the dance. He persisted and wouldn't relent unless she broke down. He, however, didn't strike her as the malicious type like Cardin. Obnoxious, blunt, and pushy, but seasoned with good judgment. If she said no, they'd be at an impasse.

"One dance?" she fumed, "And you disappear and leave me alone?"

"Cross my heart," Desmond promised with the proper motion.

"Fine but out here. I'm not going back in there."

"Wouldn't force you if I could," he assured her as their hands meshed. He then coaxed her into a waltz.

Weiss felt awkward waltzing to no music. It felt robotic and disturbing, and strangely liberating. Desmond kept his hand at her shoulder and never at her side or waist. He never spoke but smiled whenever Weiss looked at him. His eyes kept glancing down at their feet, careful to not step on her. Weiss found his hands surprisingly warm. His palms were soft to the touch and light. They fell into the gentle rhythm and Weiss found herself humming a slow aria as they swayed. Humming was soon discarded for quietly singing the remainder. As she finished, Desmond slowly let her go.

"Thank you," Desmond said sheepishly. "Your voice is lovely, by the way."

Weiss found herself returning the smile. She couldn't suppress it because she remembered the aria she had been humming. It wasn't one she had been taught, rather it was one she learned herself. The one song she memorized by heart. Weiss believed she'd forgotten the aria long ago as it wasn't a in a language she used often.

The song itself was enough to put Weiss at ease. It gave her a self of worth that could not be easily taken away. It was very much against the classic arias of pain and passion. It was the first one she'd learned about love and it stuck with her in small ways. It affirmed self worth above all as the lyrics flowed back into her consciousness.

"Have a goodnight," Desmond chuckled seeing the smile on her face. He turned to walk back to the ball.

"Hold on," Weiss said suddenly. "After forcing me to dance, the least you could do is be a gentleman and walk to my room."

There was no underpinning in her words save a new air playfulness. _Childlike playfulness_. Internally, Weiss cringed. She wasn't Commander Tactful but her point got across as Desmond nodded and escorted her to her room. He offered her arm and she took it with a measured eagerness.

_Not so bad after all. Not a bad night after all. Always work through it. _


	2. Hyperhidrosis

**RWBY Files**

**Hyperhidrosis**

* * *

Blake watched helplessly as her leader shook and writhed. Ruby had been having nightmares for weeks now and it concerned Blake. Ruby had these night terrors like clockwork, every night from 12 am to 4 am. Yang and Weiss didn't seem to be bothered by Ruby's thrashing but Blake was a light sleeper and it woke her up every time.

Blake sighed and she kneeled beside Ruby. The curtains were drawn shut and not a single light was on but Blake could see her just fine. In her pajamas and without her Crescent Rose, Ruby somehow looked smaller and more like a child. Her short black hair was splayed out behind her head as she twisted and grimaced.

Blake didn't know what to do. Every night, she'd watch and watch and hope Ruby would pull through on her own. She didn't. It had gotten progressively worse and at this point, Ruby would break into fine sweat and spread it to her sheets. Blake hated watching people she couldn't help. True, she kept to herself but her teammates had a special place in her heart, like a second family or something more.

Ruby whimpered softly and clawed her blanket. Her face paled and her breathing activity increased. Blake cringed and posed a wary hand to wake the girl. If Ruby was to wake, there were possibilities ranging from good and horrible in play. Letting her suffer through her nightmares wasn't ethically sound but it gave Blake pause.

If she woke Ruby, the scenario boiled down to her not facing her fear and burying it with guilt. Ruby was that kind of person, Blake figured that out early. As childlike as she seemed, the girl carried a lot of burdens, a lot of luggage. She fought it with a good heart and inspiring others.

The faunus smiled to herself but it wasn't a particularly happy one. It was sickly bittersweet. If she let Ruby fight it out, she would emerge stronger and happier but at the chance of losing herself if she failed. Blake didn't like those choices but she had to trust Ruby. At the same time, Blake knew she had to do something, anything, to support the girl who never once wavered in their friendship.

Ruby let out a muffled cry and curled into a ball. Pain was written all over her face and Blake could hear her heart pounding. It was looked painful, it sound painful, and it no doubt felt twice as bad. Night terrors weren't something to just move on from and ignore. Ruby's hands suddenly clenched and she grabbed her hair. Blake was worried she might pull but breathed a sigh of relief when the tension left Ruby's hands.

Instinct overrode reason and Blake reached over and grabbed one of Ruby's hands. It was sweaty and small. Blake gripped it gently but applied a firm pressure of reassurance. It was the most she could do without over stepping her bounds. Quiet reassurance.

A quiet sound escaped Ruby's lips. It wasn't one of anguish like before. It was more like a soft grunt that resounded renewed spirit. Or, that's how it sounded to Blake and she hoped she affected Ruby in some way.

Through the night, Ruby continued to thrash about but there was something different. Her palms were still sweaty and the occasional groan would escape but there was no fear, no sense of despair. Blake's eyelids felt heavy but she was determined to hold on. It was the least she could do for a leader who'd given so much. The night continued on and the darkness in the corner of her eyes. It got to the point where she felt her hands slacken. A few hard blinks drove it away but it was getting harder to stay awake.

Ruby finally stabilized into a quiet slumber when Blake felt dawn was approaching. Felt rather than seen because the air felt light and the night didn't seem as bleak. Blake allowed her hand to be withdrawn but she didn't want to leave Ruby's side. It was probably her protective nature that caused her to stay put. She placed her back to the side of Ruby's bed and crossed her arms. She settled in to stay until dawn finally broke but sleep was relentless and took her the moment her amber eyes shut.

* * *

Ruby awoke with a smile. For the first time in weeks, she'd had a good night's sleep. Dawn was trickling into her room. She yawned and stretched as sat up and rolled out of bed. She didn't mean to but it felt like the right thing to do; goofy, but necessary.

Unfortunately, she rolled onto something solid. She grunt and heard groaning from beneath her.

"Blake?" she mumbled.

"Oh," Blake stood up quickly, shaking off her weariness. "Good morning Ruby."

Her amber eyes seemed frantic like she got caught in a lie. Ruby tilted her head and smiled.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. How about you?"

"I feel great," Ruby's smile grew, "Best night's sleep in a while."

"Good."

That was all Blake said before pausing. Her eyes were searching for something and it frankly weirded Ruby out. It was okay though, teammates were just as good as family. And family wasn't perfect until you accepted them for who they were and what they did for and to each other. Ruby got to her feet and hugged Blake. Though she was shorter, she managed to wrap her arms around Blake's upper back. Blake hesitated before returning the gesture.

"If you're tired," Ruby said, "You can sleep. I'll sneak you for food."

"I-,"Blake looked to her side and smiled, "I'm fine, but thank you for the offer."

"Okay," Ruby laughed. "I'm gonna wake up Yang now. You wanna help?"

A mischievous grin had crossed the younger girl's face and Blake suddenly felt implicated in a trouble making. Being no stranger to getting in trouble, Blake nodded and followed Ruby to Yang's bed. Ruby scurried off before returning with a bucket of water. Blake raised an eyebrow but couldn't help the small smile appearing on her face.

Yang was sprawled out on her mattress snoring quietly with her hair in a million directions.

"Ready?" Ruby whispered.

"Ahuh, I'll slow her down." Blake whispered back. "And remember, don't stop running."

"3" Ruby poised the bucket.

"2" Blake rubbed her hands together in preparation.

"1" they yelled in unison as the water began to fall.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was something. Justa short drabble about nothing and yet everything. A tad verbose, yes but something mundane yet magical. I'm, of course, low on sleep so it helps clear up the mental fog. Until we meet again...**


	3. Chordae Tendineae

**RWBY Files**

**Chordae Tendineae**

* * *

Jaune didn't particularly like the feel of book stores. They were cramped, dusty, and oddly dry. This store was no different. He only came at the request of Pyrrha who just simply wanted to browse. She never said what she was looking for but it didn't seem to matter. She appeared to be delighted looking through assorted books.

She wasn't wearing her usual attire nor her school uniform. Her long red hair was braided down her back with ties interrupting the individual braids. She was wearing a loose, maroon sweatshirt that covered a cream colored tank top and it blended nicely as the weather was permitting. Her legs were clad in relaxed jeans and her feet were clad in slender boots.

Jaune felt a bit out dressed despite their "casual" evening on the town. He was in his usual relaxed jeans and a light cotton tee-shirt. His hair was getting shaggy and it bothered him slightly.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha called out from somewhere amongst the bookstore.

"I'm coming," Jaune called back.

He ambled around some shelves and found his way through the maze. He always found books such curious things. Each and every book was its own world and adventure. His grandfather always told stories orally but Jaune wished he'd written them down, they were good stories. He always liked good stories.

He found Pyrrha leaning against a book shelf staring intently at an anatomy book. Her mouth was set in a determined grimace. Her green eyes were a focused on a certain page.

"What's up?" he asked.

Pyrrha glanced up and flashed a quick smile, "Would you mind helping me?" Her voice sounded a bit embarrassed and a splash of hurt.

"Uh, sure,"

Jaune walked up and put himself beside Pyrrha. The anatomy book she was holding was printed in small text with several diagrams. The most prominent one was a cross section of the heart. Jaune tried to quickly recall the pieces of it but only succeeded in remember the mitral valve was between the left atria and left ventricle.

"What's wrong?"

"Those words," Pyrrha put a finger to two words just below the diagram. "Would you mind reading it aloud?"

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha nervously. He didn't know if she was testing him or if she didn't understand but he read it aloud anyway. The description was about the heart strings, the bands of tissue that connected the cuspid valves to the ventricles.

"Ah," she nodded, "It's Latin."

"Yeah," Jaune nodded dumbly, "It's Latin."

Pyrrha seemed distracted for a second but recovered and closed the book. She put it with another stack of books and picked them up.

"Need some help?" Jaune chuckled.

"No," Pyrrha smiled back, "I'm fine. You can wait outside, I'll be out soon."

"Are you sure?"

She assured him with a quiet look and Jaune got the message. He gave his own wary glance before exiting the bookstore and entering the cool autumnal air. As the sunlight slowly faded and the darkness encroached the city, the streetlamps ignited with beautiful flames. Though it was archaic lighting system, gas lights were almost mesmerizing.

He wonder was short lived as Pyrrha exited the bookstore with a plastic bag full of books. Jaune didn't have to have x-ray vision to know she had that anatomy one in her bag. She always pushed herself in that way. Frankly, it made Jaune feel a tad crappy because he never took his studies that seriously. He had to remind himself she never did it so up anyone, it was just how she learned or something close to that.

"Got enough books there?" Jaune chuckled.

Pyrrha hesitated for a moment and that concerned Jaune just a bit.

"I mean," he stumbled, "I'm sorry I didn't…"

"Jaune," Pyrrha smirked, "It's fine. It is a lot of books. Do you want to get some coffee before we head back to Beacon?"

"Sure," he sighed. "Do you want me to carry those?" He eyed the bag of books.

Pyrrha shook her head, still smiling, but he knew there was something she was holding back. However, he wasn't going to force it out. Strong as she was, Pyrrha was also human. That meant, at least to Jaune, she could be broken too at any point. He wasn't going to just let that happen.

* * *

After that got their coffee and sat down outside in the brisk air, Pyrrha looked up from her steaming cup and took a breath.

"Wait," Jaune interrupted.

He swallowed. The metal chair he was sitting in wasn't too comfortable. It was intricate black metal that matched Pyrrha's and the table. Their cups of coffee sat on the table while the wind came and went in small breezes, taking the rising steam with it. Pyrrha's face looked a tad pained and worrisome. Jaune reached over and covered one of her hand with his own.

"You don't have to tell me anything," he said quietly. "I-I don't want it to affect anything or if it bothers you or…"

Pyrrha smiled, "Thank you , but I think it's best that I do. It'd help you understand me better."

"Okay, if you want to…"

"I'm, er, I'm dyslexic," Pyrrha's face flashed shame and she looked down to her drink.

"Oh," Jaune was momentarily dumfounded. "Dyslexia, so you can't read that well."

"Yeah." Pyrrha was still looking down at her drink. "I've been hiding it but…"

"It's okay," Jaune assured her, "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It just makes you all the more better than me."

"What are talking about?"

"Pyrrha," he smiled, "You're the hardest working person I know and despite being dyslexic, you're miles better than anyone in our class."

"But I can't even do the simplest of reading! I can be good in everything else but if I falter once, it's all for nothing. It's all a waste if I can't get the basic down. "

She clenched her free hand into a fist. A strong feeling brought her to look up and Jaune. There was hurt on his face, but there was also compassion and patience.

"Hey," he said quietly, " We're only human. We may not be perfect in everything but we're perfect the way we are. And you, you're perfect in every way to me. Okay?"

Pyrrha shook her head and let out a breath. "It's not like that. I can try as hard as I want but I can never-"

"Measure up?" Juane finished with a chuckle. "Look, you have to learn to not compare yourself to others. You just have to do the best you can. Right? It's not about doing as much as the person next to you. It's about pulling your weight and doing your best. Just because you have a slight…" he couldn't find the right word "… short coming, doesn't make you anything less than perfect."

Pyrrha let a sad laugh escape her lips. "Thank you but-"

"No 'buts', I understand. I can't change your mind completely but can you do me favor? Trust me. Trust me and I promise I'll help you through this. I don't think there's anything wrong with you and you shouldn't either. If I can't make you see it that way, I try again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day until you understand. What little holds us back shouldn't. You're wonderful and no little thing should ever make you feel so down."

"What if I told you not to?" she snapped. "What if I told you to leave it alone and forget I said anything?"

"Then I would," he sighed, "I would stop reminding you that I think you're perfect just the way you are. But I'd never caring and never, ever think less of you; the person who taught me to stand up. You don't have to trust me, but I want you to. I want you to realize nothing is wrong with you and and nothing is more beautiful you, all of you."

Pyrrha's eye never left his as a lump of emotion formed in her throat. She pulled her hand away from his and placed it in her lap. The wind howled in her ears and her eyes fell to the ground. In a brief moment, Jaune was leaning across the small table hugging Pyrhha tightly. Their cups of coffee were spilling off the table and splattering onto the floor. She couldn't fight the tears in she tried. In a small sense, she didn't want to. It felt good to let it out, to let go while she was somewhere safe. She started laughing between sobs. It sounded horribly to her ears but to Jaune it sounded like a symphony of moving on.

"Dyslexic or not," he whispered, "You're perfect just the way you are."

* * *

**A/N: What the actual... That's it for you Arkos shippers. I'm just so... It felt necessary to give Pyrrha a weakness. Dyslexia makes sense because she's Greek actually... Nevermind, references. Hope you enjoyed, blah, blah, I know we're all eaglary awaiting Volume too so... until next time. Ave.**


	4. Erythema

Erythema

Moonlight was leaking through an empty window. It spilled across the wooden floor and pooled on a outstretched blanket littered destruction. It was a white blanket, thing but soft. Heavy metal pieces were laying on it; some of them were twisted and most of them were blackened.

One could not easily identify what pieces went where nor if anything was salvageable. It was the effect of a brush with death. The red and black metal shards were neatly organized with reverence and care. The trigger guard was bent. The firing bolt was cracked. The scythe blade was broken in pieces. Crescent Rose, for all its worth, was utterly destroyed.

A lone girl was sitting atop her bunk bed. Her legs were not swinging as they dangled. They simply floated in the pale light. She had a pillow in her lap. Her hands were balled on top of the pillow, clenching it tightly. A light red blanket was wrapped around her shoulders. A red cloak was laid bare beside her. It was ripped along the tail and charred between the hood and cape. Silver eyes glanced at it momentarily before welling up.

The girl gingerly touched her bandaged shoulder. The bandage was tight and spots of red were riddled throughout. Blistered skin cried out in pain as she touched it. She gritted her teeth and her other hand clenched tighter to the pillow. The bandage wrapped from her shoulder to around her abdomen.

Slender fingers found raven black hair and ran through it. Hot tears spilled from her face and dropped onto floor. Silent drops fell from her face in the dingy dark. Ruby Rose, in all her spirit, was utterly destroyed.

Three sharp wraps broke the silent dirge. The large door creaked open. A tall man with grey hair stepped in. In his hands he carried a small plate and a mug. He betrayed no emotion as he glanced down at the decimated weapon. He strode slowly to the seated girl and tilted his head slowly to the left.

Silver eyes would not meet his gaze and pale hands pulled the blanket into a tight shroud. He made no reply and simply laid the plate on the floor beside the white blanket. On the plate were freshly baked cookies; chocolate chip, her favorite.

He did not, however, put the mug down. He held it up for her and paused. He felt the weight lessen before letting go. To his surprise, it didn't shatter on the ground. It was held firm by two, no longer shaking, hands. The grey haired man nodded with a glint of pride in his eyes. A small smile graced his lips before he exited and left the room to silence.

_Thump, thump, thump _

Heartbeats. All of them pounding through the silence. All of them trying to break the stoic veneer. She felt the warmth of the mug travel through her fingers. The ball of ice in her heart melted, slowly. After blinking away some caught tears. She pressed soft lips to the rim of the mug and tilted it gently.

The effect was immediate as perfectly heated ambrosia poured. It was hot chocolate, rich and warm. As she pulled the cup away, a faint grin fought its way onto her lips. He didn't forget the cinnamon.


End file.
